Ugly Truth
by detectivejigsaw
Summary: Another post-Weirdmageddon story, where Stan remembers something kind of unpleasant that gives Dipper some food for thought. Another one of my weird little drabbles. Sort-of angst, technically, but they don't have a genre option for that so I'm tagging as angst.


Day two of helping Stan get his memories back was met with a lot less grief and despair and desperation than day one had. Mainly because now they actually had hope for a good outcome from their efforts.

Dipper couldn't remember ever feeling this tired before-even during Weirdmageddon, he was pretty sure he'd been mostly running on adrenaline which kept him on panicked hyper-alert nearly the whole time. It was a miracle he hadn't chewed his shirt to pieces, frankly.

"Ya might wanna siddown before ya fall over, kid," a gruff voice commented behind him, as a big hand rubbed the top of his hat.

Heh. Speaking of miracles.

Obediently Dipper flopped onto the couch on the front porch; Stan settled next to him with a sigh, resting his arm over the back and crossing his legs at the ankles, a Pitt cola in his other hand. Glancing up at him, Dipper couldn't help thinking that he looked way more...content than he'd ever seen him. He hoped it wasn't just because he didn't have all his memories back yet.

Seconds later Mabel and Ford came out to join them, bearing plates of bacon sandwiches for everybody. Ford held one out to Stan, the tiniest hint of apprehension in his eyes.

Stan accepted the plate with a grin and a "Thanks, Sixer," and bit into the sandwich with gusto.

Ford winced a tiny bit at the nickname, but didn't seem too bothered by it. It was theirs first; he wasn't going to let Bill ruin it for them. He just sat down on Stan's other side, and picked up his own sandwich (the only one with a healthy amount of lettuce added to it, as opposed to the others', which were mostly BACON).

Mabel perched herself on the arm of the sofa next to Ford, hoping that Waddles, who lay on the steps in front of them, wouldn't realize the ingredients of what they were eating.

* * *

For a few minutes there was no sound but that of munching and swallowing, and the occasional slurping as they drank their sodas and admired the sunset through the trees.

Then, out of the blue, Stan said, "I remembered the day we finally got you back."

The sentence was clearly directed at Ford, whose expression became duly apprehensive. "Oh yes?"

"Yeah. Before all the stuff with the FBI, the kids and me-" it didn't escape Dipper's notice that Ford refrained from correcting him to 'the kids and I'- "had a fireworks party on the roof. And then they had a water balloon fight in the front yard." He shrugged. "Guess it's cuz I was sittin' here watching them, like we're sittin' right now-that brought the memory back or whatever."

"That does make sense." Ford twisted around until he was facing Stan. "Do you remember anything else?"

"...A few things, after you came through the portal." Stan unconsciously rubbed his jaw with one hand, voice becoming more hesitant. "Like how you came out here and scared the agents off after erasing their memories. And then after you came inside, later…" he hesitated again, saying the next part like he wasn't sure it was quite right, "...you told me you were gonna kick me out at the end of the summer-"

"He what?!"

Both the kids stared at Ford in shock. And even, dare I say it, flat-out horror.

Ford's shoulders hunched, and at least he looked decently ashamed.

"...I have no excuse for that." Then he corrected himself, "Or rather, I have several excuses, but none of them are good. I was being stupid, again. I'm sorry."

Stan frowned a little...before he nodded. "Okay. Thanks."

"And the edict has been fully rescinded, by the way," Ford hurriedly added. "You don't have to leave if you don't want to."

Stan snorted, and shoved his shoulder playfully. "And leave you here by yourself? You'd probably blow the place up or get involved with another demon or whatever."

Ford gave a somewhat halfhearted laugh. "Heh. Yeah, probably." But then he leaned his shoulder against Stan's as they went back to eating, expression a little relieved.

* * *

Eventually Mabel began reminding Stan of another memory, and the conversation resumed. Dipper, however, had become a little lost in his own thoughts, and it was hard for him to slip back into the same level of peace he'd had earlier.

Suddenly, he was feeling very, very glad that he'd decided to go home with Mabel after all.

Because while Dipper understood that Ford had still been nursing a grudge towards Grunkle Stan at the time, and he could tell his uncle really was sorry now about what he'd said, he hadn't expected that level of coldness from the same man who played D,D&D with him and got excited over misshapen jelly beans. It was a little...unnerving, to think that he'd been asking Dipper to stay with him while at the same time planning to throw Stan out on the street; he wondered if he would have been quite as eager to stay if he'd known about that.

If he had known, he hoped his ultimate feelings would have been the same as they were now: as amazing as Gravity Falls was, and as much as he'd love to stay there for the rest of his life studying its mysteries...if the price for that opportunity was his family being torn apart, meaning it wouldn't have the four of them sitting together, eating bacon sandwiches and enjoying the sunset like this, it wasn't worth it.

* * *

**I am a little curious about whether, if Dipper had known that Ford was planning to pull a Filbrick, it might have dampened his enthusiasm towards the Author a little. Because while he clearly worships him more or less, he cares about his Grunkle Stan too, who he's known for a lot longer.**

**Who knows.**


End file.
